I Don't Even Like Beer
by Luna4ever
Summary: Combeferre still doesn't understand why he let his friends invade his and Enjolras's house for Superbowl Sunday. Firstly, he hated football. And he hated beer. He really, really hated beer. Which unfortunately, there was a lot of. But Eponine was there, too, so he supposed he could live with it. If only he could ask her on a date. (One shot, drabbles, Eponine/Combeferre)


((A/N: So I may or may not have a huge problem with this ship because I really like writing for it! This is just a little one-shot drabble, mainly Eponine/Combeferre but mentions of E/R. Thanks for reading!))

"Could you turn that down?" Combeferre complained. "I'm trying to read."

"Who _reads_ on Superbowl Sunday?" Bahorel exclaimed, turning the volume up even louder. "Come on, 'Ferre, join in! We've got food."

"Good enough for me," Courfeyrac said happily, reaching his hand into a bag of chips. "Seriously, 'Ferre, you aren't going to get any reading done here, so you might as well join in the fun."

"I second Combeferre," Enjolras said grumpily. "I have speeches to write."

"You always have speeches to write," Jehan pointed out. "Both of you need to stop being such workaholics."

"Jehan, you don't even _like_ football," Combeferre pointed out. "Why are _you_ trying to convince me to watch it with the rest of you hooligans?"

"Hooligans indeed," Enjolras muttered.

"I don't like football, but I enjoy the spirit of it," Jehan said loftily. "Superbowl Sunday is a day when America sits down with snacks in front of a television to watch the Superbowl and root for a team, whether or not they like the team or not. It gives off a great spirit of camaraderie."

Enjolras glanced at Combeferre and rolled his eyes. "I wish they'd show more camaraderie for things that will actually _help_ people," he told Combeferre. Combeferre grinned.

Most of Les Amis were gathered around Combeferre's and Enjolras's television, eating various snacks that Musichetta, Cosette, Jehan, and Marius had prepared (Jehan, Musichetta, and Cosette prepared, Marius tried to help, found that he couldn't, and continued to help anyways). Bahorel, Grantaire, and Eponine had gone all out, wearing their team's shirts along with headbands, wristbands, socks, and necklaces worthy of Mardi Gras. They had even drawn streaks on their cheeks. Bossuet was holding Combeferre's cat Liberty (Enjolras had named it), much to Liberty's displeasure (she didn't like loud noises and with Bahorel, Grantaire, and Eponine around, there were lots of loud noises), but Bossuet kept a firm grip on the cat so she wouldn't escape. After all, it was his only chance to hold a cat since Joly was allergic to cats and Musichetta didn't like cats. Joly was watching the TV half-heartedly, his head on Musichetta's lap. Musichetta was more concerned about the food, and she kept asking Courf if anyone needed any more food. Courfeyrac, for his part, was eating his weight in chips with Gavroche and, due to Enjolras's planning, there were at least ten other bags of chips for the rest of the group. Jehan was happily braiding Cosette's hair as she sat on an armchair. Marius was sitting on the arm of the chair, glancing at the TV every once in a while but mostly talking to Cosette.

Grantaire strolled over to Enjolras, who was furiously writing at his desk. "Hey," he whispered, putting his head on Enjolras's shoulder.

"I'm _working_, R," Enjolras sighed. "Can you come back later?"

Grinning, Grantaire swiftly took the papers out from underneath Enjolras's pen. "No," he teased, holding the papers above Enjolras's head. "It's time you stopped working."

Enjolras glared at Grantaire but only made a half-hearted attempt to get his papers back. He was taller than R, so it wouldn't take much to retrieve his papers, but his boyfriend's presence had already distracted him enough. Grantaire smiled triumphantly, knowing that he had won the battle, and took the opportunity to drag Enjolras in front of the TV.

Combeferre watched Enjolras go sadly. He had now lost his only friend in his battle against the Superbowl. He didn't even know how he and Enjolras had gotten stuck with the duty of hosting Suerbowl Sunday. Combeferre and Enjolras had the largest house of everyone, yes, and they had two couches, yes, but that was no reason why Superbowl Sunday couldn't have been hosted at Bahorel's and Grantaire's. After all, Combeferre thought irritably, the only reason that he and Enjolras even _had_ two couches was because everyone constantly crashed at their house. Most of the time it was to get advice from Combeferre. Apparently, he gave good advice. Or maybe it was just because he was always calm.

Combeferre sighed and tried to concentrate on his book. For the first time in about a year, he didn't have any homework, and he was looking forward to reading his book. And then the lunatics that he calls friends decided to invade his house. Fantastic.

Of course, it wasn't just the Superbowl that was distracting Combeferre. It was Eponine, with her stupid silky dark brown hair and that ridiculously happy expression on her face and those stupid beautiful brown eyes. She was far too beautiful. Combeferre sighed and, as a nervous habit, polished his glasses. She wouldn't ever like him. She had gotten over Marius, yes, but it didn't matter. Combeferre was a nerd and looked like one. He wasn't remotely handsome; and someone who looked like Eponine would never fall for someone who looked like him.

It was at this moment when Eponine came over. "'Ferre, you can't sulk in the corner," she told him sternly. "You're ruining my game."

"_I'm_ ruining your game?" Combeferre asked, raising an eyebrow. Subconsciously, he ran a hand through his sandy brown hair.

"Yes, because you aren't having fun," Eponine said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're being ridiculous. Even Enjolras is having a beer."

Combeferre snapped his head around to peer at Enjolras. To his utter disbelief, there was Enjolras, sharing a beer with his boyfriend. Combeferre rubbed his forehead. He really had lost his only ally against the Superbowl.

"So you don't have any arguments and you're going to come and have a beer with me," Eponine decided, pulling Combeferre to his feet. For a petite girl, she was surprisingly strong.

Well, Combeferre thought, there was nothing else that he could really do, so he let Eponine pull him all the way to the couch. She handed him a beer, grinned, and went back to Grantaire. Combeferre sighed and put the beer back. He didn't like the taste of that stuff. He watched as Eponine's gaze returned to the TV. Of course she was ignoring him. Of course. Why wouldn't she?

Grantaire caught Combeferre's gaze, frowned, and walked over to Combeferre. "Something wrong?" R guessed.

Combeferre shook his head. "I'm fine," he said tersely.

R looked between Combeferre and Eponine. Although R looked absolutely ridiculous in his football getup and he was wearing pants that were far too tight to be legal, he grabbed two beers (one of which was the one Combeferre had set back) and said, "Let's get out of here for a little bit."

By this point, Combeferre decided that he was better off going with whatever his friends wanted. He was a patient man, so he could deal with a lot of things, including being shoved around by all of his friends. Even if he really couldn't stand beer.

Grantaire handed Combeferre a beer and said to Enjolras, "We need some fresh air- we'll be back" before walking outside.

"I don't like beer," Combeferre protested. Grantaire just cocked an eyebrow at his friend and opened his bottle. "And I just put this bottle away."

"So don't drink it," Grantaire said simply.

R's bottle was completely empty before he said anything else. "So," he said, swallowing, "you and Eponine. Did you guys fight?"

Combeferre shook his head. It felt odd to get relationship advice from the cynic. He smirked; how strange that Enjolras had gotten a boyfriend before Combeferre. Enjolras, who was completely clueless when it came to relationships, had been more successful in love than Combeferre, who liked to think that he knew something about relationships. Or perhaps Enjolras had just been lucky.

"Were you dating behind our backs and break up behind our backs?" R guessed again.

Combeferre shook his head. "She hasn't done anything wrong," he said stoutly.

R frowned. "And you?"

"I- I haven't, either," Combeferre stammered. "I- I can't ask her out."

Momentarily losing his self control, Grantaire rolled his eyes. "Of course you can," he said brusquely.

Combeferre smiled, but he shook his head.

"Look," Grantaire said impatiently, "when I was drunk, I asked Enjolras out and he said yes. Look at me, and then look at Enjolras. I'm good for nothing, completely worthless, and I know I'm ugly – you don't need to reassure me that I'm not, I know that I am. Enjolras practically _glows_, he's so perfect. So," he pressed on, seeing that Combeferre was about to interrupt, "if a loser like me can ask out a god like Enjolras, then you have a pretty good chance with Eponine."

"You're not worthless," Combeferre said quietly. "You're worth a lot, R."

R smiled. "I'm working on believing you," he replied. "But seriously, 'Ferre, just kiss her or something. I don't think I can stand any more sexual tension in the room."

That made Combeferre laugh. "I didn't think there was any sexual tension in the room," he said.

"There is with you glancing oh so _longingly_ at Eponine," R said, nudging Combeferre. "Now we're going back to the noise and you're going to think about what I said and by the end of the Superbowl I want to know that you've at least tried to ask out the love of your life."

"I think you're drastically exaggerating-"

Grantaire opened the door before he could finish his sentence. Courfeyrac greeted them at the door. "You guys can't just _leave_!" Courf exclaimed. "They made a touchdown!"

"What?" R shouted. "Who made a touchdown?"

Gavroche appeared behind Courf and shrugged. "Your team," he said vaguely.

"_And I missed it_?" R said furiously, rushing to the TV. He turned back, pointing an ominous finger at Combeferre. "You owe me now, 'Ferre. You _have_ to. I missed a _touchdown_ for our little chat."

Combeferre looked at his socks guiltily. But he couldn't ask Eponine now, she was watching the game. So after he disposed of the beer by giving it to R as a consolation prize, he made himself content by sitting near her. So what if R glared at him a lot? He was sitting only three people away from her. He didn't want to creep her out.

Luckily, the team that they wanted won. Combeferre didn't even pay attention to the game one bit. Eponine did, though.

After the game was over, it was time for clean-up. Courfeyrac made an executive decision and said that what the group really needed to do was order celebratory pizza. Enjolras protested at the state of the living room, but no one paid him any heed. Combeferre tried to say something too, but his words went more unnoticed than Enjolras's. After all, Combeferre thought, it was only his house. Why did he ever think that either he or Enjolras would have a say in what went on here?

Although he hadn't done any cheering, Combeferre was completely exhausted and took advantage of a completely empty couch to stretch out on it. He closed his eyes.

"_You owe me_," R hissed in Combeferre's ear. Combeferre jumped.

"Shit, R," Combeferre gasped, rubbing his head. "Could you leave me alone for a minute?"

"No," R said stoutly. "I missed a touchdown and you _are_ going to ask her _right now_!" And R gave Combeferre a definitive shove in Eponine's direction.

Unfortunately for Combeferre, Eponine noticed. "Come on, R, give 'Ferre a break," she said, grinning. "We won, and you can watch the replays on YouTube."

"Not the same," R muttered, glaring at Combeferre pointedly before stalking away.

"He'll be fine in a day," Combeferre said nonchalantly. "It's just the Superbowl, and it's really just another game. And like you said, he can watch the replays on YouTube. It'll be exactly the same. You're completely right. He can get some chips and sit in front of his computer and watch the replays on YouTube. Ah, sorry, I'm rambling." Combeferre scratched his head.

Eponine smiled. "It's fine," she said. "It's been a long day."

"No kidding," Combeferre replied. "It's really been a long day. And then I have all this mess to clean up. But Bahorel and Courf are going to help me since they helped create most of it."

"I'll help," Eponine offered.

She continued talking, but Combeferre didn't hear her. All he could see were her lips and all he could think about was how they would taste and-

Wait. What was he doing? Had he just-

"'Ferre?" Eponine asked. "Are you okay?"

Combeferre frowned. He had been reaching to cup Eponine's cheek in his hand, but his hand really just looked like a deformed claw. "Yeah," he said hastily, putting his hand in his pocket. "I'm fine."

"You look a little feverish," Eponine said, frowning. "I think I've been spending too much time with you and Joly." She put a hand on his forehead. "Well, you aren't burning up."

Combeferre grabbed Eponine's face and leaned down to kiss her. The moment their lips met, his mind realised what he had done. But it was far too late to rectify anything. He might as well just enjoy how she tasted of chips and salsa and bean dip and- oh. Was that beer?

He pulled back. "I- I'm sorry," he stammered. "I- I don't know what I was thinking-"

Eponine grinned. "Ask me," she said. "Come on, you can't just kiss me and not ask me anything!"

Combeferre's heart began pounding frantically in his chest. "I- um- will you- will you be my girlfriend?" he said, breathing heavily. His heart felt like it was in his throat. He gulped.

"That's a hell yes from me," Eponine replied, smirking and wrapping her arms around Combeferre's neck.

"So," Combeferre said, his head spinning from all sorts of happy emotions, "can I kiss you again?"

Eponine laughed. "Do you really need to ask?" she said, cocking an eyebrow.

Combeferre grinned and leaned down to kiss her again.

Perhaps he did like beer after all.


End file.
